Broken
by xXriujooXx
Summary: She is gone forever...and Tony is left behind, a broken and empty shell of a man left to deal with the emotional trauma of losing his soulmate.


**So...this is a pretty long oneshot that I've been working on recently. The dark and semi-depressing nature of it is do to the fact that my grandmother died last week and everything I write now turns out dark and funeral-y. **

**But this came out kinda decent and has been on my mind for a couple of days.**

**I was also watching RENT while typing...so that didn't help me make good progress. I kept getting distracted by Roger's hair and how sexy it is. I don't know why...I've just always had a thing for guys with long hair. **

* * *

**Broken**

The second worst day of his life was a bright, sunny, cloudless day. It seemed completely wrong; where was the rain? Where was the thunder and the darkness? Where was the howling wind and the depressing background music?

Why did the sun shine down so brightly to mock him and his pain?

A small pair of hands wrapped themselves around his right leg, the small person holding onto the highest part of him they could reach for dear life. Without looking down, Tony reached down and rested his hand on his son's shoulder, trying to pass the calm and comfort that he didn't feel into the little boy.

He heard sniffles, and felt the hands grab the fabric of his pants tighter as the five year old child began to cry.

Tony bent down to pick up his son and hold him close.

"Shh, Evan," he murmured in the boy's ear. "It's going to be alright."

_It's going to be alright…_

That's what people kept telling him.

But, so far Tony was have a hard time grasping the concept. He was broken, mangled, chopped into little bitty pieces. His heart was gone, sitting still and lifeless in the black casket in front of him, leaving an empty nothingness in his ribcage. Evan hugged his neck, and Tony planted a kiss on the boy's cheek, just like is mother would have.

He took a deep, shuddering breath. He had promised himself that he wasn't going to cry. He wasn't. He needed to stay strong for Evan…there was time to lose control of his emotions once he was alone, after his son was asleep.

Her eyes were the first thing that he noticed. They were a warm, chocolate kind of brown, full of mischief and clever banter. He was under her spell from their first conversation, though he didn't realize it until much later.

He recalled the first time they went on a date; it was after Jenny's death and Vance had split up the team. The night before she was shipped off to Israel.

…

_He knocked on her door urgently, the pizza box warm in his hand. _

"_Who is it?" he heard her voice call. _

"_Tony," he answered. "And I have pizza. Now let me in."_

_There was a very silent five seconds before he heard the deadbolt slide back and the door open. _

"_I have to leave early in the morning, Tony," she reprimanded softly._

"_I know," he said, walking into her small apartment. "That's why I'm here at night. You know I'm not much of a morning person."_

_It may have been a trick of the light, but he could have sworn she smiled at that. _

_He set the pizza box down on the table and turned to face his coworker. She was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt with Hebrew script written on it, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and the locks of that lustrous dark hair in the front hung loose, either on purpose or evidence of the haste with which she had put it up in the first place. _

"_Don't you have to pack too?" she asked. _

"_I don't ship out until Thursday," he replied. "So I don't really have much to do tonight unless I want to hang out in an empty apartment for two days…which is kind of depressing."_

_There was another moment of silence in which they stared at each other across the room. _

"_Why are you here, Tony?" she asked suddenly. _

_Tony didn't have an answer to that; he had no idea himself. So he just shrugged. "I really…don't know," he muttered. I just wanted…I guess…"_

_He trailed off into silence, failing to come up with logical sentences or words that normal people could understand. _

_Ziva stared at him contemplatingly for a moment. "How about you help me pack then?" she suggested. "The sooner we do that then the sooner we can eat that pizza."_

_So she set him to work packing up the books on her bookshelf that stood next to him. There were many of them that he recognized, and he noticed that she had two copies of many of them; one in Hebrew and one in English. But they were not the titles he'd been expecting: Gone With the Wind, Jane Eyre, even Harry Potter was in the stack. _

"_I used them to help me when I was learning English," she explained when she caught me looking at them. Then she saw his mystified expression. "What?" she asked._

"_It's just…I could live with you a thousand years and never even begin to understand you."_

_She patted him playfully on the cheek. "That's the point, Tony," she smiled. _

_It took them about an hour and a half to finish up what was left, and they sat, exhausted, on her bare floor, leaning up against the wall. Tony pulled the pizza box toward them._

_That night, after the pizza was done, and he was getting ready to say goodbye, Tony very impulsively leaned forward and kissed her._

"_Sorry…" he murmured after he realized what he had done. "I don't know why I did that."_

_Ziva's endless eyes stared back at him in the darkness, calculating. Then she grabbed his shirt and yanked him across the doorframe, kissing him back with a fierce passion. _

…

Tony could even hear the words that were being said. He was too lost in his own thoughts to register anything around him except for Evan's soft touch on his shoulder. His heart ached; it was empty from his own pain, but it was also torn for Evan. The boy would grow up without his mother.

A cold shiver ran up his back, stealing his breath and bringing something to light that he hadn't considered before.

Evan would not have a mother. Tony would have to raise this little boy by himself. Panic seized him; he didn't know how to do that! What if he screwed up? He wasn't good at the calming bedside manner, the nurturing influence that mothers have. What was he going to do? How was he supposed to do this? What if he didn't raise Evan right and the boy turned out to be a mass murderer in his angsty teenage years?

This had all happened so fast…they hadn't talked about what would happen if one of them was lost on the job. He realized with 20/20 hindsight that they _should_ have, especially in the line of work that they both pursued, the reckless attitude they had when it came to chasing people with guns and other weapons designed to suck the life out of good people.

And then it was over. Gibbs came up to him then, and handed Tony a folded American flag that he had been carrying the entire time.

"I wish we could have given her a full military funeral," he said quietly. "But I want to give you this anyway."

Tony accepted it wordlessly, unable to find words and afraid that if he _did_ speak that the tears would come.

He wasn't going to cry. Not here. Not in front of Evan.

"I'm so sorry, my dear boy," Ducky said, coming up to him. The kindly older man laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. After a second or so of silence in which he and Gibbs had one of those silent conversations with their eyes, he held his arms out for Tony's son. "Here, I'll watch him for a while," he offered.

"Why don't you go with Ducky for a minute?" Tony whispered to Evan, using an almost inhuman effort to keep his voice from shaking. Evan nodded his assent, using one hand to clumsily wipe tears from his eyes.

"Come on, dear. I have a fantastic story about this tough Israeli woman and two of the largest Russians I have ever seen…" And so Ducky, with Evan in his arms, walked off around to the cars, where Abby and McGee were standing.

"I'm scared, boss," Tony whispered after a minute of silence. "I don't think I can do this alone."

"You won't be alone," Gibbs said firmly. "We loved Ziva too, and you know that. If you need help, a babysitter, _anything_…all you have to do is ask."

"Yes, boss."

"You're not the first one to be forced to go through this, and I wish no one would ever have to," Gibbs continued. "I wish I could say the pain went away…" he said softly. "But it does fade. You _can_ live life again. Ziva would want you to."

It was one of the longest speeches Tony had ever heard him make.

Gibbs reached his arms up slowly, and then embraced the younger agent tightly. Tony hugged him back, enjoying the rare sign of affection and taking great comfort in it.

"I miss her so much," he whispered hoarsely, his breath catching in his throat.

"So do I, Tony. So do I."

The two men let go of each other and walked over to where the others were waiting.

A warm breeze blew over the hill then, bringing with it the smell of the wildflowers and the promise of spring.

…

_It was about eight o' clock at night, and the team was working late. It was a triple homicide case, and the daughter of the first victim had been kidnapped. They were going on thirty six hours straight with absolutely no leads and nothing to go on._

_Tony was chugging coffee like Gibbs by this point. _

_McGee was staring blankly at his computer, in a state of semi-consciousness, and Gibbs was talking to Vance at MTAC. Ziva was typing on her computer, every once in a while shaking her head vigorously to keep herself awake._

_He picked up the phone and dialed Ziva's desk extension. She picked it up without looking at the caller-ID, which was good. It probably wouldn't have worked if she had. _

"_Ziva David," she answered, trying to get the tired tone out of her voice._

"_Hey, dear, it's Tony," he said. "I think I'm going to have to cancel our date tonight."_

_She looked across the bullpen at him and raised her eyebrows, though she didn't hang up the phone. _

"_Oh?" she asked. "That's too bad. How come?" _

_Great. She was playing along. That was another good sign. _

"_I'm afraid I'm a workaholic," Tony answered, as if he were announcing he had a fatal disease. _

_She smiled. "We will just have to reschedule," she said. "How about tomorrow?" _

"_Hmm…no good. I'm pretty sure I'll still be working," he said. "We might have to push it to next year, but I'm still not sure."_

"_I am pretty sure you are exaggerating."_

"_Well…not exactly," he responded. "You see, I had reservations for this really fancy Italian restaurant and I got them like, six months back…so I'm pretty sure it's going to be next year."_

_Her eyes softened when she noticed he was being completely serious now. "Oh, Tony…I'm sorry. But I am sure it will be just as good six months from now."_

"_That's true. It's only a restaurant."_

"_We could go somewhere else in the meantime."_

"_Yeah. But, I must admit that I did have a sneaky, ulterior motive for that particular one."_

_Ziva sighed._

"_You know which restaurant it was?"_

"_I have a few guesses, yes."_

"_It was the nice one where we had dinner after bagging the Navy drug dealer. Remember he was meeting that chick at the La Bella Italia?"_

_She smiled again. "Yes. And the waiter got so mad at us for taking away his best tipper."_

_Tony laughed at the memory. "I thought it was only fair that we finish the poor guy's meal. I mean, who can pass up shrimp of that quality?"_

_There was a silence as Ziva and Tony just stared over our desks at each other. He had a point to this particular conversation, but now that the time had come to actually _do _it, he was having trouble coming up with the courage._

"_I have a question for you, Ziva," he started, his voice serious now. "And it's rather important."_

"_Okay."_

_Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that McGee had realized what was happening, though Ziva hadn't, and was trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. _

_Tony hung up the phone and walked around his desk, gesturing for Ziva to do the same. He grabbed her hand and led her to the window. _

"_A couple of months ago, I realized something," he started out, scrambling in his head to recover the words he had worked on for weeks, struggling night after night to find the right phrases to use that expressed what he felt. "I realized that I depend on you for everything."_

_She raised her eyebrows at this._

"_It's true…and I wouldn't prefer it any other way," he continued, looking out the window. "I love you, Ziva."_

"_And I love you."_

_The whirlwind that was Abby burst in through the elevator, and McGee caught her before she could interrupt, pulling her back and putting a hand over her mouth, whispering urgently in her ear._

"_These past couple of months we've been living together…well I've gotten used to seeing you when I woke up in the morning," Tony continued, nervous now that he had two spectators and a still clueless Ziva hanging on his words. "And...I want to be there for you every day for the rest of my life."_

_When he got down on one knee, Ziva finally figured out what was happening._

"_Tony…"_

_He took her left hand in his, and with his right, he pulled a small velvet jewelry box out of his pocket. There was a muffled squeal from Abby and a frantic "Shush!" from McGee as he tried to silence her. _

"_Ziva…" Tony said, looking her straight into her glorious chocolate eyes, "Will you marry me?"_

…

It was night now; the mourners that had filled his house all afternoon had long since left, and he had just put Evan to sleep. Tony walked into his bedroom as if he was carrying five hundred pounds on his back. He couldn't bear another night alone…since that first night he had taken to sleeping on the couch or not at all. He kept the lights off, not wanting to see Ziva's clothes still on the floor, her jewelry still lying on the dresser, her makeup and brush still strewn over the bathroom counter, exactly the way she had left it that last morning.

He opened the closet door and pulled off the black coat on his suit and undid his tie. The soft smell of Ziva's perfume overwhelmed him. He reached out his hand and pulled a dark blue shirt, and pressed it to his face. It was her favorite, and he always thought she looked extra beautiful in dark blue. He fell back against the closet wall and slid down to the floor.

It was over; no more wall to keep his emotions in check. He sat there in the darkness of the closet and let despair wash over him.

She was never coming back.

He would never see her smile again.

He would never feel the soft touch of her fingers in the middle of the night when she thought he was sleeping.

Never again would he hear her laugh.

Never again would he hear her soft voice, singing gently to Evan as she comforted him after a nightmare.

Never again would he hear her whisper "I love you."

Her dark brown eyes haunted him in the moonlight, coming into his thoughts even as he closed his eyes.

He wanted to think of her and didn't want to at the same time. It was too painful to relive the best memories of his life, because she was always there.

…

_It was late April 2010. The day was a clear, cloudless blue and the temperature was in the seventies. It was perfect weather, and Tony wondered idly if this was meant to be a good omen, a sign that he was doing something right for once in his life. _

"_Well, I never thought that this day would come," McGee said, coming up behind him and adjusting his tie in the mirror. "At least, I'd always expected it to be me before you."_

"_What, you haven't found your Mr. Right?" Tony quipped, once again poking fun at the younger agent. _

"_Shut up, Tony."_

"_Oh, come on, Probaliscious…you know I'm just teasing."_

"_Will you ever stop making gay jokes at my expense then?"_

"_Probably not…until the day comes where I actually meet a girl you date."_

"_Which is never going to happen."_

"_Because you're gay?"_

"_No…because you'll do something horrible that will make them refuse to go out with me again."_

"_Will you two stop bickering?" Gibbs said, poking his head in the door. "You have to get out there…Ziva's already ready."_

_And then he was gone, taking his place in the front row of the church. McGee grabbed Tony's arm then; pushing him slightly out the door. _

_Suddenly, his legs had locked into place and a cold sweat had broken out over his forehead. _

"_Come on, Tony," McGee urged, trying to get the older agent to move. "Ziva will kill you if you chicken out now."_

_That was true…_

_After a couple of very long seconds, he regained function of his body, and was able to walk in the side door to the main part of the small church. Gibbs was sitting in the front row with Tony's parents (who had mysteriously shown up two days ago, even though he had never sent them an invitation) and across the aisle Director Vance sat with an unknown member of Ziva's family, talking quietly to him._

_A bunch of people were scattered in the rows behind, and he could make out Ducky and Palmer sitting towards the middle near some of the other NCIS agents._

"_Are you ready?" McGee asked, whispering in his ear as the music started to announce that everything was starting._

"_If you don't stop talking, McGee, I'm going to have to get Palmer to be my best man instead of you."_

_The doors opened, revealing a tall, black-haired figure in a long red dress. Tony made a mental note to congratulate Ziva on picking the first non vomit-inducing bridesmaid dress. It was one of the few times he had seen Abby out of her usual black and pigtails; he had never known that her hair was that long, being up all the time. But now it was down, flowing across her shoulders like she was a model for a shampoo commercial._

_Tony elbowed McGee surreptitiously in the ribs, noticing that the younger agent's mouth was hanging open as his eyes followed the Gothic scientist up the aisle to take her place across from them in front of the church. _

_As she turned to face the two men, she winked at them playfully and gave them a thumbs up, making Tony smile._

_And then he was distracted as the music changed, alerting everyone in the room that Ziva and her father were about to come through the doors. _

_Tony couldn't take his eyes off her the entire time. He didn't even pay attention to the ceremony or what was being said in both English and Hebrew, until, of course, the words "I now pronounce you man and wife." _

_Something electric shot through him._

"_You may kiss the bride."_

_It was the first time in a while he had felt nervous about kissing a girl, though Ziva didn't give him much time to hesitate. She threw her arms around him and kissed him._

_So now he was married. _

_To Ziva._

…

It must have been about one in the morning when he heard Evan open the door and call for him.

"Daddy?"

"I'm here, Evan," Tony called from the closet. The little boy padded over to him in his footsie Batman pajamas.

"What are you doing in the closet?" he asked, his eyes wide…_the same chocolate brown as hers._ Tony held his arms out and his son climbed into his lap.

"It smells like your mother in here," he responded softly, stroking the boy's hair.

"I miss Mommy."

"So do I, Evan."

Evan grabbed onto Tony's shirt tightly and began to cry again.

"Shh…shh…Mommy wouldn't want us to be sad," he whispered to the little boy.

"I can't help it."

"Just remember that we still have each other, right? We can be the Dynamic Duo and get each other through this."

"I'd rather be the Three Musketeers."

There was a long period of silence as father and son held each other close on the floor of the tiny closet.

"Are you going to work tomorrow?" Evan asked.

"No…I was thinking we could just hang out. Just you and me."

"Can we go to the park?"

"Whatever you want."

"I love you Daddy."

"I love you too, Evan," Tony whispered. "Remember that, okay? I...I never told your mom enough."

"I think she knows."

_I'd die for one more day with you, Ziva…all those things I left unsaid and meant to say…_

It was about ten minutes later that Evan's even breathing signaled to Tony that the child was asleep. He didn't bother to put him back in his bed…the weight of the sleeping child in his arms was comforting, keeping him sane in the utter darkness of his grief.

Evan was the only thing that had kept Tony from following Ziva in death. He was almost ashamed to admit it, but he had thought of suicide many times over the past four days. A world without Ziva…to him it was unimaginable. He could barely recall the memories he'd had before she'd entered his life; she was so bright on his consciousness everything else seemed dim and colorless. Once again, a wave of stabbing pain engulfed him, constricting his breathing and pulling at the empty void where his heart used to be.

Father and son slept on the floor of the closet that night, holding a dark blue shirt between them that smelled of sandalwood and lavender.

…

_Tony hurried up the stairs, taking them two at the time, fumbling with the keys to his and Ziva's apartment. He was floating on a euphoric high. He opened the door quickly, after attempting to use all the wrong keys, and held it open wide. _

_Ziva walked up the stairs then, smiling gently and carrying a small bundle in her arms wrapped in a blue blanket. A small pink face was barely visible, wearing a knitted cap and eyes shut serenely as it snuggled deeper into its mother's arms. _

"_Welcome home, Evan," Ziva whispered to the bundle as she crossed the threshold. _

_Tony and Ziva's apartment had undergone some serious changes in the past few months. Gone were the display shot glasses and the antique samurai sword. The bottles of wine were hidden away and the handguns that would normally be left lying on the coffee table after work were locked away in a special cabinet in the master bedroom with Ziva's collection of knives._

_The racy movie posters were gone, and the little guest room at the end of the hall had been painted in soft shades of blue, filled with plushy stuffed animals that were gifts from various friends and family members. _

_A farting stuffed monkey that was called Abby rested inside the crib, given to the child by the scientist herself._

_Ziva placed her son gently in the crib, covering him with the blue blanket. _

_Tony put his arms around his wife and held her close to him as they watched the baby sleep. _

"_I love you," he whispered in her ear._

_He saw her smile as she snuggled deeper into the crook of his arm. "I'm so happy, Tony," she whispered. _

"_Me too."_

…

Tony woke first, feeling the dead weight of Evan in his arms.

"Wake up," he whispered, trying to shift to a more comfortable position. He seriously needed to brush his teeth; it felt like he had been inhaling cotton balls all night. "Evan."

Once again, Ziva's eyes greeted him, soft and gentle in the face of his son. Grief washed over him again, and he irrationally wished the boy would close his eyes again, just so it would be easier. It was hard enough seeing them in his memories.

"Morning Daddy."

He even sounded like her.

"Time to get up, little man," he said quietly. "Why don't you go back to your room and get dressed?"

The boy got up clumsily and did as he was told, leaving Tony on the floor, wearing yesterday's rumpled and dirty suit.

And thus third worst day of Special Agent Tony DiNozzo's life began.

He stood up and slowly began to pull off his clothes, letting them drop limply to the floor. To replace them, he chose a nondescript pair of jeans and a button up shirt.

He didn't care about the color.

Wandering into the bathroom next, he began to brush his teeth and wash his face, being extra careful to keep his eyes closed the entire time, and to not touch any of Ziva's things.

Turning around, he found himself looking at the bed again. The bed he and Ziva had shared for almost eight years. It was still unmade; her side of the bed still had her imprint in the sheets, the comforter was still flung on the floor in their haste to get up that last morning.

The aura of her still hung in the room…and it was so potent that he could still feel her presence.

His phone rang then, a sharp noise against the quiet. It took Tony a moment to find it; it was still tucked inside the pocket of yesterday's pants.

"Hello?" he answered quietly after it had rung four times.

"Hey, Tony, it's McGee."

"Hey." He really couldn't think of anything else to say.

McGee obviously felt awkward on the other end of the line…he was stammering and stuttering like he was being faced with a full-on Gibbs Stare.

"Just spit it out, McGee," Tony said.

"Um, well, I was wondering if you and Evan would like to have dinner with me, Ducky, and Gibbs tonight. Just us guys."

"I don't know."

There was a silence.

"Well, if you want to come, we'll be at that fifties diner down on Main street, okay? Around six o' clock."

"Alright."

Tony shut the phone with a snap and slipped it into his pocket, then walked out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen area. Evan was sitting at the table, struggling with the large box of Cheerios.

He hurried up to the boy and grabbed the box before cereal ended up all over the floor.

"Let me help you with that," he said, pouring some into the red plastic bowl in front of Evan, then putting some into the little green one the child had gotten and placed in front of his seat. Being unable to reach the others, Evan had grabbed the plastic bowls and spoons that he normally used.

It took a couple of tries to get used to the smaller-than-usual utensil, but eventually he got the hang of it, and father and son ate Cheerios together as light from the morning sun streamed in through the window.

Ten minutes later, when breakfast was cleaned up, Evan went to his room.

And Tony grabbed bottle of Jack Daniels from the top shelf, behind the recipes books.

It was about three in the afternoon when Evan came wandering back into the living room to find Tony sleeping on the couch, rumpled, disheveled, and holding an empty bottle in his hand.

…

_The worst day of Tony's life began hectically. The storm the night before had knocked out the power, therefore rendering the alarm on Ziva's bedside table useless. It had taken him a second before realizing that the sunlight hitting his eyes was not a normal occurrence for a Wednesday morning. _

"_Ziva!" he said, shooting bolt upright. "Ziva, wake up!"_

"_Hmmm…"_

_Tony looked at the clock. It was flashing 12:00. _

_Great._

"_We're late," he said, and threw himself out of bed. _

"_What?"_

"_We must have lost power from that storm last night," he said, grabbing clothes out of the closet and practically running towards the shower._

"_You know, I would suggest a group shower to save time, but we all know that would just take longer," she said, getting up gracefully from the bed and walking to the bathroom as Tony turned the water on. _

_Without a word, Tony's hand shot out and pulled her into the shower with him._

"_Come on, Evan, we're late," Tony was saying to the child twenty minutes later as they tried to figure out breakfast. _

"_But Momma promised pancakes today."_

"_Well, we forgot to get up early enough. How about pancakes tomorrow?"_

_Evan pouted his lip in disappointment._

"_Sorry champ. Why don't we have cereal?"_

"_We don't have time, Tony," Ziva said, coming into the kitchen, her hands pulling her hair back. "It's 7:30."_

"_Gibbs is going to kill us."_

"_I could take your Mustang in and you could drive the Mazda to take Evan to school."_

"_Why can't I drive my own Mustang?"_

"_Because last time I was late…and it's your turn to take him to school."_

"_But…"_

"_I'll see you at work," she said sweetly, kissing him gently on the lips before pulling the Mustang's keys off their hook and walking out the door. _

"_Alright, champ, looks like you and me need to be getting our butts out the door."_

_Tony grabbed Evan's backpack from the living room couch and helped get his son's hands through the straps. _

"_What about breakfast?" the kid asked as they were almost out the door._

"_Oh…right…" Tony dashed back to the kitchen and filled a sandwich bag full of Cheerios. "Here," he said, handing the bag to the boy and gently pushing him out the door. "Multitask. Eat and walk."_

_It was a normal day at the office. He and Ziva went back and forth with banter and suggestive looks; partly out of habit and partly because it annoyed the hell out of McGee. _

_At three o' clock Tony checked his watch. "I'll go get Evan," he offered, seeing her typing frantically, hurrying to meet one of Gibbs' impossible deadlines. _

"_Gear up!" Gibbs ordered abruptly, coming into the squadroom._

"_Or…see if he can hang out with a friend this afternoon."_

"_Just as long as it's not Sarah's kid. She does not like me."_

"_Because you slapped her in the face at the last PTA meeting."_

"_It's not my fault she's so sensitive."_

"_Most people are about that, I'm afraid. Though if you ever get into one of those slapfights again, let me know ahead of time so I can bring a video camera."_

_That earned Tony a punch in the shoulder. _

"_Ow!"_

"_Come on, DiNozzo!" Gibbs' said sharply. _

"_I'm coming, boss!"_

"_I was talking to Ziva, Tony."_

"_You know, that's getting really confusing."_

"_Yeah. And it's your fault."_

_Tony paused as he thought about this. "Oh…right. But I was DiNozzo first!"_

_..._

_The crime scene was on the bloody side. It trailed up the walls and around the lower floor of the house. There was no body; just a pile of bloody dog tags on the carpet. _

"_I wonder where they are," Tony remarked dryly, snapping a couple of shots of the bloody pile of metal. _

"_That's our job to find out, Tony," Gibbs said, running a hand along one of the red trails on the wall. "Where's Ziva?"_

"_Outside with McGee, checking the yard."_

"_Get her in here, I need―"_

_A gunshot rang out, cutting him off. _

_Tony dropped the camera and rang outside, immediately alert, with Gibbs right behind him. "Ziva!" he shouted, bringing his gun up and bursting through the back door._

_Ziva was standing in the middle of the yard, arms hanging slack and facing away from them. McGee was nowhere to be found, but his voice could be heard, shouting "Stop! Federal Agents!" _

_Tony ran to Ziva. "Hey, honey, are you alright?" he asked, walking up to her. "When I heard the gunshot I was worried that you―"_

_And then he noticed she wasn't responding. She was staring blankly ahead, and then began to fall forwards. Tony caught her as soon as he noticed her tipping. _

"_Ziva?" He was worried now. He lay her down on the ground to figure out what was wrong._

_And then Tony felt his hand connect with something wet. He looked down. Ziva's abdomen was stained a dark, unnatural color. _

"_Ziva!" Tony said, pain and fear in his voice now. He quickly pulled of his jacket and pressed it into the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. _

"_Gibbs!" he called brokenly. "McGee!"_

_But they were out of reach. He looked back to his wife, her head cradled in his arms. He could feel her blood staining his shirt, but he didn't care. _

"_You're going to be okay," he whispered to her. "Hold on."_

"_Tony…"_

"_Shh…don't say anything."_

"_Tell Evan that―that I love him very much."_

"_He knows, Ziva."_

_Her breathing came in ragged gasps as the pain she was in robbed her of the ability to breathe properly. It killed Tony with each spasm that racked her body, each hiss as her carefully construed calm was broken and displayed her pain. _

_Footsteps announced the return of Gibbs and McGee, followed by the jingle of handcuffs as the shooter was dragged behind._

"_Ziva!" McGee called out worriedly, noticing the situation. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Gibbs grab the younger agent by the arm and hold him back to keep him from rushing forward. He barely registered Gibbs' urgent request for 911 and criminal transportation. _

"_Come on, Ziva, you can beat this," Tony whispered, his voice strained. "I know you can."_

"_I am glad to have met you, Tony," Ziva whispered back softly. "Thank…thank you for giving me everything I ever wanted."_

"_Ziva…" Tony's voice broke as he struggled to control his emotions, something that hadn't happened to him since high school. It tore at his throat, but he didn't notice. "I love you."_

_After a fit of hard, labored breathing and some coughing, Ziva replied. "And I love you back, Tony."_

_He pulled her up slightly and kissed her delicately, tasting the blood that had gathered at the edge of her lips. She kissed him back weakly, and then he felt her mouth go slack._

"_No…no…Ziva…" Tony said, pulling away and looking down at his wife. Her eyes were closed and her head hung limp in the crook of his arm. He shook her gently. "Come on, Ziva, wake up. Open your eyes." Tears were coming now, flooding through the broken walls of Tony's emotions. _

_He kissed her again, harder, trying to awake some form of life into her, but to his horror she remained unresponsive._

"_ZIVA!" he cried, his voice loud, calling for her, shouting for her to come back to him. His eyes were wide, staring in disbelief and shock as the woman he loved turned cold and limp in his arms. _

_The blood on his hands and soaked into his shirt was still warm when the wailing of an ambulance siren began to cut through his racking sobs as he held Ziva's body close to him._

…

"Did you get the flowers?"

"I got the flowers, Dad. I'm not a complete imbecile."

"That fact that you are a seventeen year old boy, Evan, contradicts that statement," Tony replied. "Did you get the purple ones?"

"Yeah, I got the purple ones."

"Good."

Just because he knew it would irritate him, Tony reached out and ruffled his son's dark wavy hair.

"Hey! I told you I hate it when you do that!"

"Yeah. And I told you how much I care what you think. Now march." Tony pointed the way up the hill.

"Er…Dad?" Evan began to say fidgeting now. "I kinda already talked to mom today. I er…went early so I wouldn't be late for my date with Emily."

Tony paused as he considered this, then smacked Evan on the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For putting your girlfriend before your mother."

"But―"

"But I'll give you extra points for being proactive. At least you have one thing good from your her."

"You mean her good looks?"

Tony smacked him again.

"Ow!"

"That was for acting like an adolescent."

"Abby said that's what I inherited from you."

"And you got your taste in movies from McGee. Now go on, get out of here and enjoy your date. Don't objectify her, don't make sexist comments and be home by midnight."

Evan raised his eyebrows.

"That was your mother would have said. Sorry. Curfew is two a.m. Not a minute more."

"Yessir."

Evan pulled his car keys out of his pocket. "Um…Dad? One more question."

"What?"

"Can I borrow your car? Please?"

Tony thought about this long and hard for about half a second. "No."

"Aw, come on Dad, please? How can I impress her by driving a piece of crap Honda Civic? Can I borrow your car just once? Please?"

"Nope."

"I promise I won't wreck it."

"Tell that to the insurance company."

"Dad…weren't you seventeen once? Can't you see my side?"

"There are many people who would argue that I still _am_ seventeen, Evan."

"But…it's the last time I see her before she leaves for Brown."

"Brown? As in Brown University?"

"Uh…yeah."

"Nice. You picked a smart one."

"So I can take the car?"

Tony sighed, unable to stand Evan's pleading eyes any longer. "Fine," he said, tossing Evan the keys to his Mazda. "But if you scratch it then I will personally see to it that you are buried right up there next to your mother."

Evan ran up to him and hugged him tightly. "Thanks, Dad," he said excitedly, handing him the keys to his Civic. "I promise I won't scratch it."

After his son left, Tony walked over to Ziva's gravestone, the bundle of purple lilacs in his hand. He knelt down next to the engraved marble and ran his finger along it. "I really miss you, Ziva," he whispered. "What am I going to do with myself once Evan goes to college? It'll be like my bachelor days again…minus all the sex."

He sighed. "Yeah, I know. Lame joke."

The wind swirled around him, picking up the autumn leaves and spinning them around. His eyes ran over her gravestone again, reading the inscription he knew by heart.

"_Ziva DiNozzo, caring wife and mother, dedicated NCIS Special Agent. You will always be loved."_

And, just below that:

"_Baby DiNozzo. We never got the chance to meet you, but we love you all the same."_

Tony remembered with vivid clarity the day Ducky broke the news to him.

…

"_Tony," Ducky called, coming up to the squad room where Tony was working furiously at the computer, wide eyed and bloodshot. Five year old Evan was asleep in his mother's chair in the desk across from him; it was the day after Ziva had died._

"_Yes?" Tony didn't like the sorrowful note that was etched in the good doctor's tone._

"_I have a rather difficult thing to tell you."_

"_Go on, Ducky," he said, his voice flat and emotionless._

_Ducky knelt down beside Tony's desk. "Did you know that Ziva was pregnant?"_

_That was not the question Tony had been expecting. "Um…no, Ducky. She hadn't said anything to me at all," he said after a moment of shock._

"_Ah yes, well, it is entirely possible that she didn't know yet either," Ducky said. "Abby found elevated estrogen levels in her blood…but it was very early. I―I just thought you should know."_

_Tony collapsed back into his chair. "Thanks, Ducky," he said weakly._

_So he had not only lost a wife yesterday, but a child as well. Even though he hadn't even known about the baby, he still felt the pang of its loss as if it had been Evan._

…

It was Gibbs who suggested that he add a sentence for Ziva's unborn child. Tony ran his fingers over the letters. He wondered how things would have turned out., if things would have gone differently. Would the child have been a boy or a girl? What would he or she have looked like, acted like?

"Sorry Evan and I came separate this time," he said to Ziva's headstone. "But he had to meet his girlfriend…and you know how the DiNozzo men are about women."

Tony laughed a little to himself. "You would like her, I think, Ziva. Emily, his girlfriend, doesn't take crap from anyone; keeps Evan in his place when no one's around to smack him in the head. She probably smacks him too…but I think he likes it if it comes from her."

He sighed, and continued on after a couple of seconds. "I tried to raise him right, Ziva, like you would. At least, I hope so. It was pretty hard there, right at first. I'm not the comforting type when it comes to kids, you know? But Evan's got a good head on his shoulders. I still keep his old soccer trophies by my desk."

Tony took a deep breath. Only alone like this, with Ziva, could he really get his feelings out.

"I'm still broken," he said suddenly. "At night, sometimes I can't breathe, I can't sleep, because I'm thinking of you. I love you so much…in my nightmares I still feel you in my arms, lifeless. I wake up terrified and sweating, still able to feel your blood on my hands. I didn't think I would ever be able to get over it; I thought I would be walking around with a knife in my heart forever…I thought the pain would never fade."

He paused. "And I was right. It didn't. But I was able to get up each day… I was able to continue my life again, I was able to go back to work. Laughing genuinely took a while; looking Evan in the eyes took longer...you know they're just like yours."

Wind whipped around his face again, and gently Tony laid the purple flowers at the base of the gravestone, carefully not to obscure any of the inscriptions.

"You took half of me with you, Ziva," Tony whispered, standing up. "I'm still empty on the inside. But when I close my eyes at night, I see you, your eyes, and I'm whole again."

* * *

**Yeah. It was long. But I wanted to get all the important flashbacks in. **

**I think my favorite one was when he proposed...I liked writing that part. **

**OH...and did anyone else watch the NCIS premiere episode on Tuesday? OMG... I was so excited that it's back. I've been in like, withdrawal all summer. **


End file.
